by Milton Garby
Best wishes and fondest regards.
Alistair Theirin, King of Ferelden.
P.S. I am also putting you in this position because being king isn't all it's cracked up to be. If I get to suffer then so do you!
Aedan folded the letter and sadly packed up his camp. He didn't want to give up his search. He wanted to find Morrigan. He needed to find Morrigan. His Golden Eyed Darling. But his country needed him, and he could not turn his back on his sworn duty. Morrigan was strong, and she would be alright, he knew should would be. And he would continue his search. Some day. Aedan looked back to bitter Frostbacks with a heavy heart.
"MORRIGAAAN! I will find you one day! I will never stop looking!" His heart was as heavy as the mountains themselves. "I love you! I will always love you!"
Aedan's walk back down the mountains was harder, his footsteps laden with failure and heartbreak. Then he felt the ring shine on his finger. And he could feel her heart as if it were his own. She felt…regret and sorrow. But the ring said no more.
He would find his love someday, but not until he had secured his nation. He was Aedan Cousland, Son of Highever, Brother of Bear-Hold. Berserker and Reaver. Warden and Hero. And his actions would define the course of the Dragon Age. And while others heroes and champions may rise, Aedan's story was not yet over.